I Open at the Close // [President Snow/Glamour/Vepar]

The President of Panem steepled his fingers. He’d been staring at the 80th Gamemakers, seated behind his enormous mahogany desk, for some time now. They’d dispensed with the pleasantries and now waited for him to speak. Vepar Azazel held his composure, a trait the President very much admired. The same could not be said for his companion; sweat already beaded upon Glamour Kinkade’s brow.

And well it should.

The President leaned forward, letting his hands fold on the desk. Between him and the Gamemakers, bouquets of white roses perfumed the air. “You must both be relieved to have another Games on the books,” he spoke at last.

Mr. Kinkade audibly sighed.

“As part of the archive for this Quell, I thought it would be wise to have a post-mortem - so to speak - tete-a-tete before I release you to your final duties. Is everything prepared for the Victor Presentation?”

They nodded.

“Very good. It seems that, despite some early snafus, the Games went smoothly. We even managed to shore up any leaks in our staff, at not too high a cost.”

“Yes, I think we did amazingly well at keeping the Twist a secr-”

The President held up his hand. “No thanks, of course, to both of your own personal liabilities.” He paused, letting the weight of his fading blue gaze fall on each of them in turn. Oh yes, he knew about Victor Krigel and the avox named Sun. It was so terribly convenient when his minions gave him such powerful ammunition. “The next time I call upon either of you, I expect more dedication to your work. No distractions. Am I understood?”

Glamour, sweating freely now, flicked a glance at Vepar before leaning forward. “But, Mr. President, you showed such mercy with this twist -"

He could not help himself.

He laughed. “Mercy?” The next laugh stuck in his throat, turning into a wet cough. He reached for a handkerchief, releasing a few clots, and then carefully tucked it into his suit pocket. “My dear Mr. Kinkade, what mercy have I shown? Is it merciful to show a girl from District Nine the riches of the Capitol and then send her home to work the rest of her days? To fill the belly of an unbelievably hungry boy from District Ten and condemn him to starvation? Do you think the memories of their time here will fill them with joy, when their families come to understand the monstrosities they have each committed to save their own skins? Truly, I don’t know what many of them will see when they next face a mirror.”

He shook his head. “If that is mercy, you have a strange definition of the thing, Mr. Kinkade.”

Glamour slumped in his chair. “Then… then the Games won’t run like this next year?”

“It wouldn’t have been much of a Quell if they did,” The President said, his patience wearing thin. "Now, if you'll be on your way, I have a Victor Presentation to attend."